Catch-22
by Moultipass1
Summary: He's so close that he knows she can feel his breath on her cheek as her name falls from his lips in a husky whisper. He fights against every instinct in his body, everything that's telling him to just take what he wants, and he hovers there, willing her to take this last step. Please, love. Please, just stop thinking for a second. Let me have this. - Sequel to Forgotten Mistake
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wasn't supposed to write a sequel to Forgotten Mistake, mostly because the only ideas I had were Klaroline-through-the-centuries kind of things and it's been done so many times by so many talented writers that I didn't think I could write anything new. But then **_**this**_** idea woke me up in the middle of the night, and it wouldn't leave me alone. And since so many of you asked nicely (and some not so nicely ;)), here it is. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed Forgotten Mistake, it's always nice knowing people are reading and enjoying. Although I'm really feeling the pressure here lol It's scary continuing a story that got so many responses. If you liked the ending to Forgotten Mistake and would like to stick to your own version of what happened afterwards (if anything), just don't read this. No hard feelings :)**

**Spoilers until 4x09, we're going off canon after that because I didn't feel like dealing with what happened in 4x10. I'm lazy that way.**

**I checked, and sadly, English is still not my first language, so even though I try my best, mistakes happen. Feel free to point them out.**

**Disclaimer: do we really need to go through this again? NOT. MINE.**

* * *

Caroline crouches down, one hand placed between her feet, holding onto the branch she's perched on, helping her keep her balance as she looks down at the ground from her spot in the high tree she climbed in just under two seconds. Her other hand is resting lightly against the trunk, trying to feel any movement caused by something other than the wind.

She was careful not to climb all the way to the top. The last time she did this, all the werewolf that was chasing her had to do was run into the base of the trunk, and the brutal assault made the tree shake so hard that she fell down, breaking almost every bone in her body and becoming an easy target. She hopes that by staying a few feet lower than the top, she's in a more stable position.

Plus the spot she chose is perfect for what she has in mind. One side of her hiding place is concealed because of how dense the foliage is, but the other side has a clear view of the ground, so when he eventually finds her, all she will have to do is jump and land on his back, hopefully doing enough damage to slow him down.

She wonders how long she will have to wait. It's been a few hours. The moon was at its peak when they started this session, but she can see a faint light on the horizon now. With the wolf's sense of smell, he usually finds her easily and there's not much she can do about that. What's taking so long this time?

Then it hits her.

He's playing with her.

He's always telling her that she needs to learn patience, that her greatest weakness in a fight is that she never waits for an opening, choosing instead to launch herself at her assailant even when he's obviously ready for it.

She bites back a groan, knowing that while not as sharp as his vampire hearing, his wolf hearing is still much better than a human's. If he's decided to test her patience, to see how long she can stay up there without moving, either to run or to attack him, she could be here all day. And once again, there's not much she can do about that, short of giving up right now and never hearing the end of it.

She wonders if he's even started looking for her. He always gives her a head start before he starts transitioning, and for all she knows, he could still be in the mansion, calmly sipping whisky near the fireplace while she's freezing her ass off up there. Ok, so vampires don't really feel cold. That's not the point.

God she hates him.

Except she doesn't.

Ugh. That's another side effect of having to wait, an inevitable one, she supposes. Thinking.

It's been two months since she showed up on his doorstep and asked him to teach her how to fight. Two months of seeing him every day, of digging a little deeper into his not-so-deranged psyche – and oh, how she wishes she didn't know that he's not nearly as psychotic as everyone thinks he is. Yes, he's a murderer and mostly evil, but is she the only one around here who's noticed that everything he does, he does for a reason? Reasons she may not agree with, but they definitely rule out the insanity theory.

She remembers her fight with her friends about three weeks into her arrangement with Klaus. There are so many things they don't know about him. So many things they don't _want_ to know. And their lives are so much easier than hers for it.

When they look into his eyes, they don't remember the flicker of vulnerability only she got to witness a couple of times. When they watch his hands, they don't picture them holding a pencil and tracing the lines of her face next to a gorgeous horse. When they see his mouth, all they know is that it's his most dangerous weapon, they don't wonder what it would feel like to…

Damn!

Snap out of it, Caroline.

Yes, the guy's weirdly nice to you, and he's fucking hot, and Tyler broke up with you with a noble speech about always putting you in danger, and there's a spark here that goes beyond physical attraction… There, you've admitted it. Now you have to bury it and focus on the fact that killing comes as easily to him as breathing does to most people. Not on the fact that for the past two months, he's been using all this power not to wreak havoc on your town and threaten the people you love but to help you get stronger. And definitely _not_ on the fact that you know he's doing it because he actually, genuinely, truly cares. Oh, and not on the fact that while he's made it clear as day that he's attracted to you, he hasn't once tried taking advantage of the time you spend together to seduce you, which you're pretty sure would have worked.

Damn there are a lot of things she needs to learn to ignore when it comes to him!

When he told her last week that she was good enough to take down most vampires he knew and that they could move on to phase two – How To Escape A Werewolf Until It Turns Back Into A Human 101 – she thought it would make things easier. Not having to face him in his human form for most of their sessions should have helped.

It doesn't.

Mostly because when she told him that she wasn't sure about this, that her experience with Tyler proved that werewolves have absolutely no control over their bodies and emotions and that she didn't know for sure he wouldn't harm her, his gaze turned soft and his response gave her a warm feeling she didn't want to be feeling.

"_Even in wolf form, I can recognize the people I care about. I'm not going to hurt you."_

She almost wishes he had been proven wrong. She would have been willing to endure a werewolf bite – provided he healed her once he was back to his human form – if it meant not knowing what she now knows. That his feelings for her run so deep they're instinctual. That even at his most savage, primal self, he won't let any harm come to her.

That it's _real_.

She was so nervous the first time… But when he found her after less than five minutes, the wolf just sat down and looked at her expectantly, not moving a muscle until she started running again. Only then did he go after her, tracking her, finding her, and then letting her go over and over again throughout the night, and the night after that, and the night after that, until she figured out that it took him just a little bit longer if she climbed up a tree, and that he didn't seem too keen on following her up there.

Once, after she finally admitted to herself that he was right and that she really wasn't in any danger, she tried attacking him instead of running. He was taken off guard when she launched herself at him, tackled him to the ground and placed her hands on either side of his head with the intention of snapping his neck, but he recovered quickly and he had her pinned to the ground before she could do anything useful.

It didn't even occur to her to be scared when he had her in such a vulnerable position. The thought that he could have bitten her didn't cross her mind until they were back at the mansion and he made a comment about how she was oddly calm through the whole thing.

That's when she began to appreciate just how much trouble she was in.

It's one thing to sort of trust him when he's his civil self. It's another thing entirely to face him as a beast without the slightest hesitation.

If her friends knew…

_Well, they don't!_ the part of her that's so fucking tired of always doing what's expected of her snaps. It's the same part that doesn't scowl at her when she catches herself staring at his lips for just a little too long.

The part that's getting so hard to ignore.

The part that keeps reminding her of what he's putting himself through, transitioning every night when she knows how much it hurts just so that she can get better at avoiding werewolves.

Who _does_ that?

Tyler did. He did it after he almost killed her. He did it because he didn't want to be a threat to her anymore. He did it because he loved her.

And that's the most disturbing of it all, isn't it? This comparison she's making here is dangerous, and wrong on sooo many levels…

Her body abruptly jerks forward as the tree starts shaking violently and she catches herself just in time, her grip on the branch tightening while her gaze travels down, looking for him. As soon as he feels her eyes on him, he looks up, and she jumps on the opportunity – quite literally.

She lets herself fall.

She's quick and strong, and the arc is perfect. She lands on his back, feet first, on the vulnerable spot right in the middle of the massive body, where the spine is at its weakest because it doesn't quite meet with the powerful hind legs. The noise is deafening and she feels the wolf collapse beneath her. She takes advantage of the element of surprise while she still can, placing one hand under his snout and the other at the base of his neck, using it as leverage to snap his head backwards, the movement swift and precise. There's another loud crack, and the animal goes limp.

She jumps up in excitement, bumping her fist in the air, feeling like she should do a cheerleading routine or something. She just took down a hybrid in his werewolf form! And not just any hybrid either. THE Original Hybrid. The self-proclaimed most powerful creature on Earth.

Damn it feels _good_!

She doesn't know how long he'll be out, she suspects it's not going to be more than a couple of minutes, but it would be more than enough for her to rip his heart out if he were any other creature and that's what matters.

She suddenly wonders… Wouldn't ripping Klaus' heart out kill him? What about beheading?

Not that she's going to do it. She doesn't want him dead, she's come to term with that fact a while ago. But even if it didn't kill him, it would at least paralyze him. Who can walk around without a heart and/or without a head?

She realizes right then and there that she's going to betray her friends… That she _is_ betraying them. She's in the unique position of having their supposedly indestructible enemy at her mercy, and she's not going to do a damn thing about it.

Sighing, she sits down with her back against the trunk of the tree.

They usually walk back to the mansion together, him still in his wolf form. She'll wait for him to recover.

Yeah… She hadn't really counted on him transitioning back while he's healing.

* * *

Every muscle in his body feels like it's been pierced with a knife and then lit on fire. Every bone is breaking into a thousand pieces and then putting itself back together. Every nerve ending feels like it's been immersed in icy water. He's used to it, changing back to his human form always hurts more than turning into the wolf. But being used to it doesn't make it any easier. He groans when his shoulder blades snap into place, completing the transition. But wait, no. There's something wrong. His head is hanging at an odd angle and he can't move. Then there's a new pain as his spine sets itself right and he manages to get into a kneeling position. He cracks his neck and the healing is complete. Everything's in its right place again. About time. What took so long? Why was his spine… Oh.

"Caroline?"

"I'm here."

He turns his head in the direction of her voice, remembering the unbelievable pain when she landed on his back so hard that she broke his spine. He didn't even have a chance to jump out of the way. Definitely a move he hadn't expected. She's sitting a few feet away from him, watching him with her head tilted to the side. He gives her an appreciative nod.

"That was remarkable."

"I know, right?"

She's not doing a very good job of hiding her excitement and he has to smile.

"Well done, love."

"Klaus?"

"Yes?"

"You're naked."

Right. That's why he usually stays in his wolf form until they get to the mansion where he can have some privacy to change back. But his body must have decided that the healing process would be easier this way.

"Yes, I am."

She rolls her eyes at him.

"Do you think you could do something about it?"

He can definitely think of a few things that he could do in his naked state, none of them safe to mention unless he wants things to get out of control. And he doesn't want that. The last time he let go of his control, they slept together. He wouldn't mind a repeat performance of _that_, it's the whole erasing-her-memory-so-that-she's-not-consumed-by-guilt-and-doesn't-hate-him-afterwards he can do without. Though the memories of that night make it even harder to keep his hands off her, he's managed to be a perfect gentleman for the last five weeks. He is _not_ going to let his accidental state of undress ruin that.

"Like what? Did you want to give me your pants?" he asks with a smirk, cocking his head to the side.

Another eye roll. She's in fine form this morning.

"Can you just, like, run back to the mansion and get dressed? I'll meet you there."

He decides not to push his luck, nods, and flashes away. It only takes him a minute to get back to his place and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He hears the back door open and close and Caroline's footsteps as she walks into the kitchen. He finds her there and takes a blood bag out of the fridge. He throws it at her and she catches it mid-air, thanking him with a small smile. He's made a habit of keeping a few of those around ever since he started training her, since she's usually starving by the time they finish. It's not surprising given how hard he makes her work.

She hops herself up on the counter in what he's come to recognize as her relaxed stance and he leans against the fridge, sliding his hands in his pockets as he watches her feed. Third eye roll in about as many minutes. She finishes the blood quickly and throws the empty bag in the bin on the other side of the room, smiling when it lands perfectly. She then turns her attention back to him and notices that he's still watching her. Something in his expression must give his curiosity away, because she frowns and asks, "What?"

He doesn't answer right away. He doesn't know if he should ask the question that's been plaguing him since he woke up in the woods. He's pretty sure he knows the answer, and it's going to make her uncomfortable. But he knows that they'll need to talk about it eventually. He's sensed the shift in her over the last few weeks, there's something different about the way she looks at him, especially since they've started the werewolf avoiding techniques part of her training. She's more trusting, but that's not the only thing that's changed. There's something he can't quite put his finger on. It's like she's given up, but instead of making her sad, it freed something in her. He knows what he wants it to be, but until today, he hasn't allowed himself to hope.

Her answer to his question could change that.

"How come you didn't try to tear out my heart while I was unconscious?"

He sees her tense up and for a moment he thinks she's going to run. But she seems to reconsider and she carefully asks, "How do you know I didn't try?"

"Not a drop of blood anywhere on you, me or the ground. So? Why didn't you?"

"After everything you've done for me? You really think that low of me?"

Hearing his own words thrown back at him makes him smirk despite the fact that she still hasn't answered his question. He _should_ think that low of her. It's not that long ago that she was conspiring with his hybrids to kill him, even after he had repeatedly saved her life. But things have changed.

"I think that low of your friends," he replies. "And if they ever find out about this…"

"That's just one more thing I'll have to hide from them, I guess."

He's intrigued, not only because of her words, but also because of how defeated she sounds. After the stunt he pulled over a month ago, attacking her near the Grill in front of Damon, Elena and Bonnie as one of his tests, she had to come clean and tell them about their arrangement. Of course, she didn't tell them that she came to him after that and spent the night in his arms, but that's because she doesn't remember, he's made sure of it, so that doesn't really count as something she's hiding from them. What is she talking about?

"What are you hiding from them? I thought they knew all about these lessons. Aren't you supposed to use them to get closer to me and use it against me later?"

He sees her smile at the matter-of-fact way he asked the question, more curious than accusatory. He's not supposed to know this, but she doesn't look surprised that he does. She hasn't really tried to be subtle about it, and he would have suspected it anyway. It's the only way to explain why her friends ended up letting her spend time with him.

"Yep, I am. I guess you're gonna have to stake me and get this charade over with," she teases.

It's amazing how far they've come in a couple of months. The fact that she's able to joke about something like this knowing that he will never hurt her should worry him, because it means that she knows she's his weakness, and if she knows, then there are others who must know it as well. But the truth is he can handle a few of his enemies trying to use her against him if it means he gets to see her so comfortable around him. It's almost enough to distract him from the fact that she still hasn't answered his question, but not quite. Yet he doesn't push it. Instead, he says, "You did incredibly well today. I think the lessons are over."

"But it's only been two months. You've been fighting for a thousand years. Surely you haven't taught me everything you know, have you?"

_No, but you know enough to defeat almost anyone, anything. You have no idea how much I want to keep doing this… But you also have no idea how hard it is to be this close to you and not be allowed to do a thing about it._

Of course these are things he can't say, so he settles for a joke.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually want to spend some time with me."

"Well, I do," she snaps.

The pieces fall into place when he hears her tone. Anger is her defense mechanism, something she uses when she's trying to protect herself from feelings she's not supposed to have. He understands then that what he suspects about why she didn't take advantage of his vulnerable state in the woods is only part of the truth. It wasn't just because she trusts him, or because she doesn't know what to do with him, or because she feels she owes him for teaching her how to defend herself.

"That's what you're hiding from them," he whispers in awe. "That you care."

She flinches and looks away, and he knows he's hit the mark.

Ok.

This is _definitely_ something they need to talk about. Not just the fact that she has feelings for him, but the fact that she's accepted them enough that she didn't even consider the possibility of incapacitating him when she knew that her friends would have wanted her to. For the first time, she chose him over them. Granted, it's not like it was a life or death situation, none of her friends were in immediate danger, but still… He thought he would have to wait hundreds of years before she got to this point. Hell, he'd been _prepared_ to wait for hundreds of years.

"Caroline…"

She meets his gaze again and words elude him. For the first time in forever, he's not sure what he wants to say. Apart from 'let's leave this bloody town and travel the world together', that is. But that probably wouldn't go well. Although he's beginning to suspect that it would go better than the last time he offered. That's progress.

"Look, I… I need to figure some stuff out."

"Like what?"

She bites down on her lower lip and gets down from the counter, crossing her arms in front of her in a clearly defensive posture. Not so relaxed anymore, then.

"Like why I'm feeling this way about a mass murderer! Or why I can't stay away from you. Or why you seem to be the only person in this town who's always putting me first. Seriously, what's up with that? Why are you always so freaking nice to me? Why can't you be like you're with everyone else, a psychopathic killer who's so easy to hate?"

"You know the answer to that," he says softly, his quiet tone a stark contrast to her outburst.

"Yes, well, I wish I didn't! 'Cause, see, it really doesn't make this any easier."

He can't help but smile at how frustrated she sounds, and she seems to see the humor in her basically telling him that she'd be happier being on his hit list, because she relaxes slightly and returns his smile – though hers is somewhat wary.

"You know you have all the time in the world to figure this out, don't you?"

"Patience has never been my strong suit. Oh, shut up!" she adds when she sees him lift his eyebrows in a 'No kidding' way.

He smirks and raises his hands in an appeasing gesture. Then his face turns serious again.

"You need to stop thinking about what everyone else expects from you, sweetheart. I'm not just saying this because it would be in my best interest. What good is your friendship with them if they can't accept you for who you are, trust you to make your own decisions, and see what _I_ see?"

She deliberately chooses to ignore the thinly veiled compliment and addresses the rest of his speech instead.

"You know it's not that simple."

"But it is. It's as simple as the simplest of questions: what do _you_ want?" She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off to clarify, "I'm not asking you what you think you _should_ want."

As he watches her ponder this, he wonders what happened to the noble notion that he would not make her choose, that he would not make her turn her back on her friends to be with him. The answer is standing in front of him, looking more and more unsure by the minute. _She_ happened. She looked him straight in the eye and flat out told him that she can't stay away from him. That's what's changed, he realizes. That thing he couldn't put his finger on, what she's given up. Her denial. She's finally acknowledged that there's something there for her too.

It doesn't mean that she's not going to fight it. But she's not fighting it for herself, because she believes that he's going to hurt her and that this is what's best for her. She's fighting it because she thinks it's the right thing to do for everyone else. This makes a difference.

Thinking back to that night they spent together, he smiles to himself and for the first time in five weeks, he allows his desire to shine clearly through his eyes as he walks up to her, all wolf stealth and vampire grace. She tries to stifle her gasp at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, but he's watching her too closely to miss it.

"We could be good together, you know," he says, his voice deceptively quiet.

She doesn't get the allusion, of course, but she gives him a half-smile anyway.

"I don't doubt it."

He's right in front of her now and he leans down, never taking his eyes off her face. She tenses, in fear or anticipation. Maybe both. But she doesn't move. It's not exactly an invitation, but it's not a rejection either. He'll take what he can get.

"Caroline."

He's so close that he knows she can feel his breath on her cheek as her name falls from his lips in a husky whisper. He fights against every instinct in his body, everything that's telling him to just take what he wants, and he hovers there, willing her to take this last step. _Please, love. Please, just stop thinking for a second. Let me have this, if nothing else_.

She closes the gap.

She's hesitant at first, a far cry from the passionate woman who seduced him five weeks ago, and he knows why. Now that she's admitted to feeling something for him, this means much more and it has to be frightening. He'd know, he's terrified.

But as soon as he gently coaxes her mouth open, her eyes flutter shut and she lets herself go. One of her hands travels to the nape of his neck while the other comes to rest against his shoulder as their tongues meet and dance together. He keeps his own hands to himself. If he lays a single finger on her, he's not sure he will ever be able to let her go. Not this time.

She understands what he's doing, and the hand that's resting on his shoulder slides down his arm, grips his wrist and guides his hand underneath her shirt to rest against the small of her back. His fingers involuntarily dig into her skin, bringing her body closer to his, and she moans her approval.

It seems ruining his plans is quickly becoming a habit of hers.

The kiss is both slow and forceful, as if she's exploring while trying to make a point. He lets her take the lead, committing it to memory, still not convinced that she's not going to push him away once she comes back to her senses.

She does end up breaking it off, but her fingers stay buried in his hair and instead of trying to get as far away from him as possible like he half expects her to, she keeps her eyes closed and rests her forehead against his shoulder. Confused, he uses the hand that's not holding her against him to tuck her hair behind her ear so that he can look at her face.

"Sweetheart?"

"Shh! I'm processing."

He chuckles and sees the corner of her lips twitch up in spite of her obvious distress. He holds her tighter, not sure if he's making things harder or easier for her, but he's selfish and right now he doesn't care. She's trying to make a decision and this might be the last time he gets to hold her this way, he's going to make it last for as long as possible.

Only when he feels her trying to take a step back does he release her. She takes a deep, shaky breath, apparently hoping that he's going to say something and offer her a magical solution. But what else can he say? He's almost as unsettled as she is, not only because he knows that any possibility of a future for them hangs in the balance, but because he's never seen her like this. She's never short of a snarky retort. Never this uncertain. She's usually so in charge that it's hard to reconcile this indecisive young woman with the tyrant who lashed out at a busboy because he was 4 seconds late in picking up two empty glasses.

Then again, he'll be the first to admit that the decision she's facing today is _slightly_ more significant than the type of music that should be played at a pageant.

"Damn, this is fucked up," she says at last.

"That's one way of putting it."

She runs a hand through her hair, trying to regain some control over the situation.

"You know, if I didn't know how selfish it would be, and if I wasn't so scared of compulsion, I'd ask you to erase all this. The past two months have been confusing the hell out of me and… What?" she asks abruptly, narrowing her eyes at him.

Her whole demeanor changes as she watches him, switching from unsure and open to suspicious and accusatory in a matter of seconds. He has no idea what she just saw but… Oh, who is he trying to fool? He knows exactly what she saw. He felt his face fall as soon as he heard the word 'compulsion'. He tried to mask his reaction, but it seems he didn't do such a great job.

"Nothing, love."

"What is it?"

He flinches. She's not going to let it go. He's still trying to think of a way to avoid this conversation when her eyes go wide and her jaw drops open.

"You compelled me," she whispers in horror.

How the hell…?

She steps further away from him when his expression confirms her suspicions, backing away until she's trapped against the counter she was sitting on earlier. He takes a step towards her, but stops when he sees how she tenses at his proximity. Sighing, he runs a hand over his face and asks in defeat, "How did you know?"

"You look guilty. Like you did something wrong and you actually feel bad about it. But I can't think of anything you've done lately that would get that kind of reaction out of you. Only one explanation. You erased it."

Close enough. It's not what he did he feels guilty about, it's the compulsion itself. Though he's still convinced that it was the right decision for them, her look when she realized what he was about to do is hard to forget. He's seen her on the brink of death, he's seen her at the mercy of people who wanted to torture her, he's seen her stand up to him, yet he had never seen her so scared. Not to mention the look she's giving him right now. A mix of fear, horror, disgust… He can't even decipher it all, but there's not a single positive emotion in there. How everything could have gone so wrong in a couple of minutes, he has no idea.

"I didn't have a choice."

"You mean it was the best choice for you," she snaps.

"No… Well, yes, but it's…"

"What was it?" she cuts him off abruptly.

When he shakes his head, refusing to answer, she swallows hard, obviously fighting back her tears, and he knows he's just lost whatever trust he had managed to earn. He reaches out, desperate to establish a contact, anything, but she flinches away and he brings his hand back to his side without touching her, trying to ignore the sting of rejection.

"Caroline, I…"

"Give me my memory back."

"I can't."

"You won't," she corrects.

He nods, conceding her point. There's no vervain in her system right now, her last dose was yesterday morning. Yes, he _could_ compel her to remember.

"I'll never forgive you if you don't."

She's made her voice soft so that it sounded like the simple fact that it is and not like a threat. It softens the blow, at least to some extent. He sighs and shakes his head once more in dismay. His voice is equally low when he replies.

"You'll never forgive me if I do."

"I might."

"No, you won't."

"Klaus…"

"You told me you wouldn't," he confesses in a murmur, closing his eyes against the dreadful feeling that's settling in the pit of his stomach.

He's damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. Typical Catch-22. Oh, how he hates no-win situations. Especially when they happen after such a rush of hope and crush everything in their path.

"Klaus, I can't _not_ know. Please, I… There's no way the truth is worse than the scenarios that are going through my head right now."

His eyes snap open at that and bore into hers, his shock clearly written all over his face. What on earth is she imagining?

"I would never…"

"No! No, I know. I don't think you hurt me. At least not physically," she mumbles, and he wonders if he was supposed to hear that last part.

And really, how ironic is it that she thinks he has the power to hurt her even half as much as she can hurt him? He's almost shaking with the need to lock her up and never let her go because he knows she's about to break him.

"Love, I don't think it's a good idea," he tries again.

"It's not your decision to make. I know it might seem strange to you since technically, you already made it," she adds resentfully. "But Klaus, I swear, if you don't give me my memory back, I'm out of here and I'm not coming back."

He doesn't bother getting angry at her ultimatum, choosing to give her a bitter smile instead.

"You're leaving either way."

"You're gonna have to take a chance."

"Then you're going to have to let me come closer," he retorts, motioning at her posture, which is still quite obviously defensive.

She straightens up and gives him a look that says 'Happy now?'

"You're running out of excuses."

He sighs and nods, closing the distance between them and standing in front of her.

"How do you know I'm not just going to erase this whole argument?"

"You won't."

She's right, of course, but he's curious as to how she can be so confident about this. Sure, she trusts him with her physical wellbeing, but this is taking it a step further, especially now that she knows he's already messed with her mind once.

"Won't I?"

"No. If you do, you'll never know if I'm with you because I want to be there or because you tricked me into it. Your ego couldn't take it. If this was what you wanted, you would have gone much further with the compulsion in the first place and we'd be in Rome right now."

He manages to smile. She knows him better than he's ever expected.

"Perhaps Paris," he reminds her.

She rolls her eyes to express her impatience.

"Or Tokyo, yes, I know. Just do it, Klaus."

He gives a resigned sigh and plants a quick kiss on her mouth before pulling away, his hands on either side of her face, his pupils dilating…

"Wait," she demands, brushing her fingertips against her lips, frowning. "That was… That was goodbye, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"You really think I'll want nothing to do with you after this. Is it really that bad?"

"I honestly don't know anymore."

He can see that he just cemented her decision. He wonders if a lie would have changed her mind. She gives him a resolute nod, her apprehension apparent, and for the first time, he sees what she means about the truth being better than whatever scenario she could come up with. Imagination can be a powerful enemy, and contrary to popular belief, ignorance rarely is bliss.

Looking deep into her eyes, he lets his power take over and orders "Remember that night, after I attacked you at the Grill."

There's nothing for a second, and then he sees her eyes widen and he lets go of her, taking a step back to give her some space as she stumbles backwards and leans against the counter for support, trying to escape the flow of images that's invading her mind. Her fingers suddenly grip the edge of the counter harder and she bites her lip to keep a moan from escaping and though the situation calls for gravity rather than humor, he can't help but smirk. It looks like he's not the only one who's affected by the sensual memories. She wanted to remember. Now she'll have to live with it.

"I slept with you," she says slowly, looking at him in disbelief.

"And enjoyed every second of it," he adds smugly.

He easily avoids her punch and she doesn't make another attempt, distracted that she is by another piece of information.

"I… I'm the one who seduced you. You didn't…"

"No," he confirms, instantly serious again. "I can't say I didn't enjoy it too, but I wasn't the instigator."

"Shit."

"That's what a man wants to hear about his sexual prowess," he mutters under his breath.

Amazingly, this earns him a small laugh, but before he can feel relief or hope or anything even remotely optimistic, it turns into a choking sound and he realizes that the reality of the situation has just hit her. He's by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her, holding her against him as her whole body starts shaking uncontrollably.

"Fuck! We… I…"

She can't finish her sentence, but after a minute, she does manage to disentangle herself from his embrace and to push him away without collapsing and she seems to regain her composure. She shakes her head, probably trying to make sense of some of the images he's just unlocked.

"I'm sorry, love. I had to make you forget. It was…"

She holds up a hand to cut him off.

"Stop it! I can't deal with you right now."

He lifts his eyebrows at that. He kind of thought that dealing with him would be her priority after what she just learned.

"Caroline…"

"No," she says firmly.

"We need to talk about this."

"You don't get it. This isn't about the compulsion thing." His eyes widen in surprise and she snorts. "Oh don't get me wrong. I'll be mad about that as soon as I get over the initial shock." Her voice loses some of its bite as she sighs and goes on. "No, this is about me. Me and the choice I made five weeks ago. That night, I drove back to my place _knowing_ that I'd made the right decision. And now… Finding out what really happened is like… It's like having the ground suddenly swept from under my feet. Like I'm not who I thought I was."

He swallows hard. She sounds so lost… This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Her blaming herself for her moment of weakness. How long until she starts hating herself so much that she won't be able to take it and will need to take it out on someone else? How long until she decides that he should have pushed her away and that this is his fault? How long until she starts hating him again?

"Indulging in one night of passion to forget about the world for a while doesn't make you a different person, Caroline. It certainly doesn't make you a _bad_ person."

She scoffs.

"Of course you'd say that. You invented the whole 'want, take, have' philosophy, screw the consequences."

"Not this time, love," he points out. "I tried to protect you from the consequences."

"Is this where I thank you?" she retorts, her voice harsh.

Alright, that's enough. He's tired of this hostility. She has every right to be angry and to want nothing to do with him, but she doesn't have to drag this out. He screwed up, he gets it. Now if she's going to write him off, he'd rather she do it quickly.

"No. This is where you realize that this was for you just as much as it was for me. This is where you admit that you wouldn't have given me a chance today if you had known. This is where you stop trying to find more reasons to hate me, because I think you have enough of those already. This is where you either forgive me or get the hell out of my house."

She's staring at him, her mouth hanging open, shocked and perhaps a little frightened. It's like she suddenly remembered who he is. Well, good for her. She can go back to her friends and to her life and forget about falling for a man who only ever exists when he's with her. The illusion would have shattered at some point anyway. Better sooner rather than later.

She's still not moving, and suddenly he can't stand looking at her. He bares his fangs at her and growls, "Out!"

She jumps a little, taken aback, but she doesn't run right away. Instead, she glares at him for a few seconds, making it clear that she knows that no matter how mad, disappointed, or hurt he is, he's not going to harm her. His fists clench by his side but he doesn't move, proving her right. Once her point is made, she shakes her head at him and walks away – human speed. Then he sets about the very important task of destroying his kitchen, starting with the bloody counter.

* * *

**TBC…**

**Before the death threats start, I want to make it clear that there **_**is**_** going to be another chapter. I will gladly admit that I'm a mean, mean writer, but I wouldn't just leave them in this mess. **

**Some of you may be mad at Klaus after the last few paragraphs. I thought he was more than understanding throughout the story and I felt the need to remind everyone (Caroline included) that he's not going to be all unicorns and rainbows just because he's in love (besides, he makes a few good points, IMO). The next (and last, I think) chapter is going to deal with that and will probably have more of Caroline's POV. You might have to wait until next week for an update as work is going to be crazy for the next few days, sorry about that.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone! Here it is at last. Sorry this took so long, I was hoping I could finish it last week but it just didn't happen.**

**Anyway, thanks again to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/alerted, hope you'll like this last part :)**

**I'm not sure how OOC Stefan is, I love his friendship with Caroline and she definitely needed a friend, so I decided to use him. Keep in mind that this story takes place after 4x09, none of what happened in the following episodes has happened here, so, yeah… maybe he's not that OOC.**

**Beware rating's up to M. I blame Jewel's 'leave the lights on', one of the sexiest songs I know :)**

* * *

It's raining when she storms out of the mansion. She looks up at the sky and gives it a grateful smile before letting the tears run freely down her cheeks, knowing that the rain will wash them away. She just stands there for a while, trying to process everything that happened. The fact that she admitted to feeling something for him and that she let him kiss her is bad enough. The fact that she considered giving it a shot for a minute there is worse. But really, all this pales in comparison to the memories she just got back.

She slept with Klaus. Five fucking weeks ago. When she was still in a relationship with Tyler. And that's just one of the billion reasons why she shouldn't have done it.

She can't deal with this on her own. Not when the problem is herself. She's great at being objective and helpful where others are concerned, but when it comes to her own issues, she's a mess. She's well aware of her shortcomings in these matters. And really, there's only one person she can talk to about this. She's not even sure it's such a wise idea, but it's the only one she has.

She winces when she hears a shattering sound from inside the mansion, wondering what he just smashed, and decides that it's her cue to leave. She takes off with a specific destination in mind. When she gets there in about 40 seconds, she takes the time to send a mental thank you to her vampire abilities – working hard to ignore the fact that they've gotten even more impressive after the two months she just spent improving them thanks to _him_ – and she knocks.

The door swings open almost immediately to reveal a very confused Stefan Salvatore. She doesn't give him a chance to speak.

"Are you alone?"

He nods and opens his mouth, presumably to ask her what the hell she's doing here so early, but then he gives her a once over, notices her red eyes and hunched shoulders, and his brow furrows in concern.

"What happened?"

"I had sex with Klaus."

He steps aside without a word and opens the door wider.

She expresses her gratefulness for the lack of judgment with a watery smile and walks past him, finding her way to their usual spot and collapsing in her usual seat. The familiarity is somewhat comforting, but she'll need more than that to get through this conversation. The thought has barely crossed her mind before a bottle magically appears in front of her. She nods her thanks to Stefan and doesn't bother with a glass, gulping down a few swallows while he sits across from her, watching her carefully. His first question is not the one she was expecting.

"When?"

"A little over a month ago. After I fought with Elena, Damon and Bonnie about him."

He frowns in confusion.

"Why tell me now?"

"I just found out."

He understands immediately.

"He made you forget." She just nods, and he asks the next inevitable question. "Why did he give you your memory back?"

"I… Er…" Ok, this calls for another sip of liquid courage. "I kissed him today. And I sort of admitted that…"

Her voice trails off and her gaze drops in shame before focusing back on him. He gives a knowing nod and finishes for her.

"That you care about him."

Hearing how quiet his voice is, she narrows her eyes at him and notices the lack of emotions on his face.

"You're not mad. Or surprised."

"It was bound to happen. I've seen the way he is with you. You resisted for longer than anyone else would have. Don't be too hard on yourself."

She can't believe what she's hearing! She came here to have some sense talked into her, not to have him help her justify her mistakes.

"Too hard?" she shrieks. "Stefan, he's a monster. He's turned our lives into a living hell. He's killed dozens of people."

"So have I."

She rolls her eyes at him. She should have expected this.

"It's different."

"How so?"

"You know."

"No, I don't."

"You can't be serious! _He's_ the one who made you turn your humanity off. And that's just one of the unforgivable things I have to add to the looong list of unforgivable things he's done. He made you…"

"This time around, maybe. But I was the Ripper long before I met him."

"Argh! Why are we even talking about this? This isn't about your guilt! It's about mine!"

He actually gives her a half smile at that and she takes another sip of bourbon to keep herself from throwing the bottle at him.

"I'm trying to make you see that I'm not that different from him. And you're friends with me, aren't you? We've had this conversation before, Caroline. It's okay to feel something for him. I'm not saying it's okay that you acted on it, but you're allowed to make mistakes, just like every one of us."

"It's not…"

"You've been giving second chances for as long as I've known you, regardless of who deserves it or not. I'll be quite disappointed in you if you don't give yourself the same courtesy."

This brings the shadow of a smile to her lips. She does tend to forgive easily. She couldn't live in a world where people don't get second chances. She can't write someone off because of one mistake. It would have to be pretty bad for Caroline Forbes to decide that you're just not worth her time anymore.

"But I…" She swallows over the lump in her throat. Her cheeks are now dry, but fresh tears are trying to break out because of the confession she's about to make. "I enjoyed it. Stefan, I _loved_ it. It was…"

"Please, I don't need the racy details."

Her chuckle is a little shaky, but it's more than she ever thought possible given the circumstances.

"I wasn't going to give any. It was… liberating. And I hate myself for even thinking it, because I'm supposed to hate him and the only thing I should be feeling is disgust and…"

"Caroline, he's a good-looking man who's been nothing but charming to you for over a year. He's saved you more than once. He's proven time and time again that he cares about you. How do you not see how easy it must have been for you to forget about his dark side? Why can't you forgive yourself?"

She can't help but snort. Hypocrite.

"That's rich, coming from the king of self-flagellation."

"Yeah, well, take it from someone who knows, self-flagellation isn't all it's cracked up to be. You don't want to join the club."

She gives him a small smile. His attempts to cheer her up are appreciated, but not exactly effective.

"Loves," she whispers suddenly as something he said registers in her mind. At his confused look, she explains, "Not cares. You said he cares about me. It's more than that. He loves me."

"Really?" She shoots him a look that makes him laugh. "Don't get me wrong, you're very lovable. But… Are we sure he's capable of love?"

She sighs as the accented voice echoes in her head, the tone sad and apologetic. Out of everything that happened that night and the morning after that, those few words are the most disturbing of all. She has no reason to believe he was lying, not when he was about to make her forget about it and sincerely thought that she would never remember.

"He told me. Right before he erased it. And I believe him."

"Hm."

She's not sure why, but his suddenly pensive look makes her uneasy. She doesn't like it, it's like he's thinking something over but is unwilling to let her know what. And she's had enough secrets and lies thrown at her to last her for a lifetime – or several. Still, she respects his opinion enough to let him mull over whatever idea has taken form in his mind. That is until he tilts his head to the side and starts observing her and she gets the unnerving feeling that whatever he's thinking has something to do with what she just revealed about Klaus' feelings for her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's just…"

"What?"

"If he really is in love with you, maybe there's hope for him after all."

"Oh please! You're too smart to believe in the whole love-is-the-bad-guy's-redemption scenario. Especially when the bad guy is Klaus."

"I know better than anyone what love can do to a man, Caroline."

She instantly sobers up as the gravity of his tone brings back memories of everything he's been through for the past two years and she nods solemnly in acknowledgement.

"I know. But it's _Klaus_. It doesn't matter what he does or doesn't feel. He's…"

"Why did you tell me?" he asks seemingly out of nowhere, his voice more interested than nostalgic now.

"What?"

"If you really think it doesn't matter, why did you tell me? We were about to move on to another subject, but you went through the trouble of correcting me when I said he cares about you. It's proof that you think it's relevant, isn't it?"

"No, I was just…"

Huh. She was just what, exactly?

"I think deep down, you believe that it makes a difference."

She huffs in exasperation as he points out something she hasn't even admitted to herself.

"Damn it! I need a less perceptive best friend. Alright. Let's pretend for a second that I'm actually giving this insane idea some thought. What's next? Happily ever after?" she asks, sneering.

"I wouldn't go that far, at least not yet, but maybe you could start by talking it out."

"Are you seriously trying to push me in the devil's arms?"

"Yes, I believe I am," he answers with a self-satisfied smile.

She shakes her head at him, incredulous. On one hand, she can't believe that Stefan is giving her his blessing. On the other, it makes total sense. He used to be friends with Klaus, he knows this side of him that she got to witness over the last few months, he's more understanding than anyone she knows, and what if… What if he's right? What if Klaus' feelings for her _can_ make a difference? She's not naïve enough to believe he's going to turn over a new leaf and become a good little puppy, and she wouldn't want that anyway. But maybe they can compromise. Ideally, she'd want him to give up on his hybrids quest. Since that's not going to happen, and since people are going to keep dying until he gets what he wants, why not make sure that he gets it as quickly as possible, with as little bloodshed as possible? Why not help him, and ask him for one thing in return, her friends' safety? Will he do that for her?

She takes a moment to consider this argument from her other friends' perspective. They're not going to like it. But she could explain it to them. Make them see that in spite of everything they've been led to believe, Klaus could keep his end of the bargain. Make them see that she can keep him from going too crazy.

Can she, though?

Is she overestimating the power she has over him? If his actions this morning are anything to go by, she knows she's not. But then, what are a few hours compared to a thousand year-old obsession? Can she really compete with that? Can she _take a chance_? It's scary how much she wants to. But what's even scarier is that she's leading herself to believe that it could work. And what's downright terrifying is that she knows that if she falls, she'll fall _hard_.

She can feel Stefan's stare on her face as he tries to read every emotion there, and she knows he's succeeding, because he knows her too well to miss anything and because she's not trying to hide from him. So she knows he won't be surprised by her question. She whispers, "Am I fooling myself?"

"I don't think so, Care."

She smiles softly at the familiar nickname and stands up, handing him the bottle.

"I have an Original to face."

He stands up as well, glad that she's finally made a decision, but clearly unsure what it is.

"So, what are you going to do? Wait, let me rephrase that. What do you _want_ to do?"

She stares at him in shock as his phrasing reminds her of what Klaus said. Does she really tend to choose what she should do over what she wants to do so much that the two men in her life who know her better than anyone else both feel the need to point it out?

And did she really just count Klaus as someone who knows her better than anyone else?

It's true though, isn't it? Is there a single thing he doesn't know about her? A single flaw he's not aware of? A single fact that's escaped his notice? She remembers how she rolled her eyes at him when he told her that he wanted to talk about her, about her hopes and dreams. Back then, she thought it was just a line, and maybe back then it was. But he did end up getting to know her, and she him. They've come such a long way… Why let all this go to waste when she really, really wants to explore this thing between them?

A smile slowly spreads out on her lips as she answers.

"I want to go kick his ass for compelling me. Then maybe we can talk."

* * *

He senses her presence before he hears her, which is quite an impressive feat for a baby vampire. She's standing behind him, taking in the mess, and he knows exactly what he'll see when he turns around. Crossed arms, raised eyebrow, defiant stance, gently mocking smile. He turns to face her and gives a cold smirk at the exact picture his mind had painted.

"Redecorating?" she asks, her eyebrow rising slightly higher with her question, her gaze travelling from what used to be a cupboard up to his face.

"I thought I told you to get out."

She shrugs, unimpressed in spite of the fact that he could break her just as easily as he broke everything else in the room. Sure, she took him by surprise this morning, but they both know it was an anomaly. He's still stronger, faster, older, and way crueler than her. Not to mention the remains of his kitchen make for handy wooden weapons.

"You never said anything about not coming back."

She's clearly been spending too much time with him.

"What are you doing here, Caroline?"

"I'm…" Her posture shifts slightly and he can tell she's not as sure of herself as she wants him to believe. Yet her gaze doesn't waver and her voice is firm when she settles on a way to answer his question as accurately as possible. "Making a mistake."

He watches her warily, his eyes narrowing, the reminder of their night together even more confusing to him than her presence in his home just a few minutes after their fight. He thought she was gone for good. He would have understood her coming back to tear him to pieces because of the compulsion now that she's over the shock, but it seems this is not why she's here. Anger is not the only thing that's radiating off of her. It's there, yes, but it's in the backseat. He's curious as to what exactly is driving her. He does have his suspicions, but he doesn't like making assumptions when it comes to her. She has this uncanny ability to surprise him, as evidenced by the mere fact that she's here right now. And by the fact that when he opens his mouth to ask her what she means exactly, she holds up a hand to cut him off and states, "There are a few things I need to know."

He arches an eyebrow at her bossiness, equal parts amused and annoyed. At least he's not seething with rage anymore. There's something to be said for the therapeutic virtues of furniture-destruction.

"I'm listening."

"Are you gonna keep trying to make hybrids?"

"Yes."

"Are you gonna keep hurting my friends?"

"If they get in my way, yes."

If he expected her to be shocked at his honesty, he'd be disappointed. She just nods, deep in thoughts. He knows she wouldn't have believed him if he had told her that he was going to leave them alone, and he doesn't want to lie to her anyway. If this is going where he now thinks it's going, then lies are the last thing they need.

"What if I can negotiate a truce?"

He scoffs.

"A truce that would include me having access to Elena's blood once she's cured? That's not happening."

"It might if you promise to leave with her blood and never come back."

"They'll never trust me."

"They'll trust _me_."

"No, they won't. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but if you decide to side with me, you lose them."

"You're not doing a very good job of convincing me to side with you."

He shrugs.

"I don't _want_ to have to convince you. You need to know exactly what you'd be getting yourself into."

She lifts her eyebrows, her skepticism clear.

"You don't want to convince me? Then what has this past year been about?"

"Possibilities. Trying to make you see what could be. But the final choice is yours. It's always been yours," he adds, his voice softening.

He's always known that she was the one with the power in this, even back when she was little more than a challenge, before actual feelings got involved. Sure, he was the predator and she was the prey, but when the predator doesn't want to hurt the prey, the game has to be played by the prey's rules.

She's about to answer, but then he sees something cross her face, something akin to stupefaction. His brow furrows questioningly as she closes her mouth and shakes her head, as if she's trying to convince herself that the thought that just crossed her mind is absurd. Then she bites down on her lower lip, meets his gaze and asks, "What about Katherine?"

As always, the name makes his blood boil with rage, the wrath washing everything else away. Later, he'll blame it for the fact that he didn't immediately see where she was going with this. His voice is harsher than he intended when he replies.

"What about her?"

She pauses, wondering if her plan is viable, and after one last hesitation, she explains.

"If the cure is real, you can use it to turn _her_ back into a human as well. Now _that's_ someone I wouldn't mind letting you use as much as you want. And I'm sure none of the others would object."

His lips tighten as he thinks this over. He makes a mental note to ask her about her obvious hatred for the evasive doppelganger later as this is not the most important thing on his mind right now.

"Katerina has managed to escape me for over 500 years," he reminds her pensively, his brain going over the possibilities.

It seems Caroline is one step ahead of him, which is quite unsettling.

"Use Elena's blood just once, to create a few hybrids. Your own little Track-The-Petrova-Doppelganger army. With a few sired hybrids on each continent, the next time you get a tip about her location, you'll have someone close enough to go grab her. She won't be able to run forever. And anyway, you're always telling me we have all the time in the world. Patience," she tells him, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips as she realizes that he's taking her suggestion into consideration.

Letting his mind analyze the various possible outcomes in the background, he focuses the rest of his attention on her face, trying to decipher everything that's written there. There's smugness, something she's definitely entitled to after this idea. There's teasing, of course, _her_ telling _him_ to be patient _is_ kind of humorous. But beneath the confident façade is something he wasn't expecting.

Hope.

Her eyes are shining with it, her smile wavering as she tries to keep it from turning into a plea, her body tense as she waits for him to either crush it or nurture it.

She's not saying a word, yet in spite of the restraint she's trying so hard to hold onto, her body language is suddenly so clear to him that he can practically hear her scream at him to just agree already. To let this last wall fall. To give her what she wants from him, her friend's safety, so that she can finally give in. To prove that he wants her enough that he'll take the risk of having to wait for a few centuries before he can make more hybrids.

_Oh sweetheart. You have no idea, do you?_

He gives an almost imperceptible nod and watches in fascination as she closes her eyes in relief and lets out a shaky breath. When she opens her eyes again to meet his, there's a new determination there.

"Okay," she whispers, the word barely audible. She clears her throat and tries again. "Okay. I'm willing to give this a shot. But…"

His mouth is on hers before she can finish her sentence. She giggles against his lips, bringing an answering smile to his own, but her amusement at his quick reaction soon turns to desperate need as he takes advantage of her laughter to invade her mouth. She brings her hands up to his face, keeping him in place and silently asking him to deepen the kiss. He complies, feeling her arms snake around his neck as he wraps his around her waist, bringing her flush against him. She uses his momentum to push him backwards and he feels his back hit the wall, her mouth never leaving his. Despite the sudden move, she keeps the kiss slow, and he's happy to note that she seems to be in no rush. Hard and fast can be hot as hell, he'll be the first to admit it, but that's not the kind of mood he's in right now. No, he feels like taking it slow. There's a gorgeous body right here that's just begging to be worshipped, and he's going to make sure that it gets what it deserves.

With this in mind, he slides his hands down to the back of her thighs and lifts her up, her legs instantly wrapping around him, and he flashes to his bedroom. Once there, he slows down to human speed and lays her on the bed, settling between her legs and keeping his weight off her. When she tries to pull him down to feel more of him, he resists, smiling when she groans in protest. He makes it up to her by kissing his way down her throat and lingering on the spot that he's learned drives her crazy. Her hips instantly jerk up, seeking friction, but he places a hand against her stomach to still her movements. Her eyes snap open. Sensing her glare, he whispers against her skin, "Patience, love."

"We've established that it's not my strong suit," she reminds him before pushing him off her only to flip them over so that she's now straddling him.

He lets her, his hands resting lightly on her thighs as she takes off her shirt and leans down to kiss him. She's more insistent now, but he fights against the urgent pace she's trying to set, his tongue teasing hers only to retreat every time she thinks he's giving in. She moans into the kiss, the sound equal parts frustrated, amused and aroused. After a few minutes of this game, she abruptly tears her lips away from his and frowns at him, her eyes searching his face.

"Is this… Is this about control?"

If he was as obsessed with control as she seems to think he is, they certainly wouldn't be in this position.

"No. It's about pleasure."

"I don't remember us taking it this slow last time. Yet it was _pleasurable_, to say the least."

He gives her a smug smile that makes her roll her eyes.

"Yes, it was. But this time I fully intend to ruin you for any other man."

Her gaze softens as she reads between the lines and sees straight to the unspoken doubt. Logically, he knows that now that she's here, he has nothing to prove to her. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to do it with sex, not even mind-blowing sex. Still, it won't hurt to try, he thinks with a wicked smile.

"Well then, by all means…" she challenges, sitting up to give him better access to her upper body.

He chuckles and sits up as well, his fingers blindly travelling up her back to unclasp her bra. She carelessly throws it away before finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head, the garment disappearing at the foot of the bed. Once they're both half naked, he finally allows their bodies the closeness they've been craving. The feeling of her breasts against his chest makes them both moan and he takes a minute to just enjoy it before bringing his lips to hers once again. Before he can kiss her however, she places a hand on his shoulder and stops him. Curious, he meets her gaze and notices that she's suddenly hesitant.

"What is it?"

"If we do this… No compulsion. Ever."

This last word makes something tighten in his chest, the unfamiliar feeling catching him off guard. She's not just talking about today. She's really, truly giving this a chance. Thinking long term. Seeking reassurance for the future. This means more to him than she can possibly know, but he's already made himself vulnerable enough around her. She knows enough – _too much_ – about him and he sees no reason to open up more. So instead of giving this the importance it deserves, he places a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth and keeps his answer light.

"Now that's a lesson I've learned, don't worry."

"I mean it, Klaus. I can't go through this again. Even if you think that's what's best for me. You don't get to decide. I'll always find out eventually, especially if you can't help but wince every time you hear the word 'compulsion'," she teases.

He smirks slightly as she calls him out on his tell, but his voice is more serious than ever when he speaks.

"Caroline, I promise you I will never compel you again. I'll supply you with vervain for the rest of your life if that'll make you feel better."

"I want to trust you. But I'm gonna take you up on that offer. You're not the only Original around here. Well, you kind of are right now, but I'm guessing it won't always be this way."

"Probably not," he admits.

She gives him a small nod.

"Now, you said something about ruining me for any other man. I'm still waiting."

His smirk turns into a wolfish grin as he captures her bottom lip and tugs lightly, revelling in her moan of approval. He releases her only to shift his attention to her neck. He feels her body tense, in anticipation or fear, he's not sure, so he decides to reassure her.

"I'm not going to bite you, love."

"Why not?"

He takes note of the slight disappointment in her voice and smiles. Anticipation, then.

"Have you forgotten what a hybrid bite would do to you?" he asks against her skin, his tongue darting out every few words to taste her.

"You'd heal me."

"Of course I would. But it would still hurt."

"I can handle it."

Intrigued at her insistence, he interrupts his ministrations and pulls back to be able to look at her face.

"Why do you want me to bite you?"

"It's just… Um… When you let me bite you, it felt…" She trails off and shakes her head, at a loss for words, and gives a small embarrassed shrug. "I just want to make you feel like that."

He smiles, both at the admission and at the sentiment.

"Next time."

She returns his smile and nods while his lips and tongue find her neck once again and she gives a contented sigh as she finally allows herself to just enjoy the moment, letting her worries slip away. He senses the change immediately, the way her whole body relaxes in his arms, how her eyelids drop heavily in abandon, the shivers that run down her body as he lets his teeth graze the skin over her collarbone... She's surrendering. He hums in satisfaction, letting her know that he's noticed and appreciates this willingness to trust him. He kneels in front of her and pushes her back against the mattress. She kicks off her shoes before he helps her get rid of her jeans and underwear, his fingers just close enough that she can feel their tantalizing warmth against her legs, but not close enough to be qualified as touching. He takes a moment to enjoy the pictures she makes, sprawled out naked on his bed, waiting for him. Now that's a sight he will never grow tired of.

But he knows that while she's letting him set the pace for now, she's bound to grow impatient again if he just keeps staring at her, so he shakes himself out of his contemplation, makes quick work of his remaining clothes, and resumes his new life's mission, kissing every inch of her body.

He starts with her left leg, his lips barely brushing her ankle before he decides to move upwards, taking his time to find the spots that make her groan, those that make her bite her lip, those that make her shudder in pure bliss, and those that make her grip on the sheet tighten. When he reaches her inner thigh, she moans out his name, the sound caught somewhere between a plea and a threat. She knows he has every intention of making her wait, he hasn't paid nearly enough attention to her other leg yet, but he can see that she's hoping he'll have mercy on her. He smirks up at her before lowering his head again, hovering a few inches away from where she wants him, intentionally blowing cold air on her centre. Her hips lift up off the bed eagerly to meet his mouth and he indulges in one long lick before moving away. Her body falls back down on the mattress and she lets out a huff.

"I hate you."

Which might be a bit more believable if she wasn't so obviously enjoying every second of this torture.

"I know," he replies as his mouth travels down to her right ankle and resumes its previous activities.

Her breathless chuckle at his answer turns into a groan, and then into a moan, and then into a groan again when he trails his fingers up and down her inner thigh, the touch light and teasing, while his lips slowly make their way up to her knee. He feels her tense up unbearably when his hand gets closer to her core and he hears her inhale sharply, and he just _knows_ that she's this close to begging. That's not what he wants though, not today anyway. They'll have plenty of time for that later, and he's sure she'll make him beg too. Right now, a power struggle is the furthest thing from his mind, so he relents before she has to resort to pleas. He repositions himself in front of her and hooks one of her legs around his shoulder. Her eyes snap open in surprise and she stares at him, trying to guess if he's just teasing her again, but he finally lowers his mouth down on her and she cries out in relief. Instead of trying to still her hips, he lets her move against him and he follows her lead, the motions of his tongue matching her erratic movements, knowing that she's close and unwilling to torment her any longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her hand moving frantically over the sheets, seeking something to anchor her to this moment, and he holds his own hand out. She instantly grabs it and squeezes it hard, her whole body seeming to clench along with their entwined fingers. All it takes is one last flick of his tongue and she's falling apart, her release taking over her body with so much force that he's pretty sure she breaks a couple of his fingers. But it's not like he cares because, really, how could he care about anything but the way her leg is keeping him firmly in place and the way she's holding his gaze as he helps her ride out her orgasm and the way his name is falling from her lips in an endless prayer?

When he feels it coming to an end, he quickly disentangles himself from her hold and slides up her body, and he thrusts into her just as the last wave of pleasure is making her shake in ecstasy. She gasps in shock, the new sensation coupled with her recent release so intense that it's almost unbearable. He stills, giving her some time to adjust, but her legs suddenly wrap around his middle, urging him on, and the hand that's not still trapped in his finds its way to the back of his neck to pull him down for a hungry kiss, and who is he to deny her what she wants?

Wrapping an arm around her, he flips them over so that she's now on top and he lies back down against the mattress, placing his hands on her waist. She stays still for a few seconds, clearly taken aback.

"Are you sure?" she asks breathlessly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she leans down against him and starts moving slowly enough to make her point clear.

He knows exactly what she's asking. Does he really want to give her this much control after the way he just tortured her, knowing that she wants retribution? Knowing that after her orgasm, she can afford to be much more patient than he's probably giving her credit for? Seeing her playful smile, savouring the way her blonde curls tickle his chest as she tilts her head to the side to watch him, taking note of the stunning view he now has of her breasts, he decides that he'll just stay like this forever if that's what she has in mind.

"God yes," he answers, drawing a small laugh out of her.

The way the sound reverberates throughout both of their bodies makes his grip on her waist tighten and she sucks in a breath. Mistaking it for pain, he releases her, but she grabs his wrists and places his hands back where they were. He gives her a questioning look, but she just shakes her head at him, smiles, and keeps moving, her rhythm torturously slow. She lets her hands wander on his chest, tracing random patterns, her nails occasionally scraping his skin, and every single time he hisses and moves to stroke her breasts and instinctively tries to pick up their pace, and every single time she gives him a smug smile and slaps his hand away and denies him and bloody hell how did he live a thousand years without her?

He doesn't know if she's taken pity on him or if the pressure that's been building inside her again is finally too much, but eventually she takes one of his hands in hers and leads it to her breast. When he silently asks for confirmation, she nods, and he brushes his thumb against her nipple.

She throws her head back as a moan escapes from deep within her throat and there's just no way to control his reaction at her look of pure abandon. He sits up abruptly and wraps one arm around her back to guide her, using his other hand as leverage on the bed behind him so that he can slam into her as hard as he's been wanting to for what feels like hours.

Her fingers tangle in his hair and she forcefully pulls him down to her breast. He obliges, his mouth closing around her nipple and lavishing it with attention as strangled sounds fall from her lips. He catches a few coherent words, like "Yes" and "More" and "Klaus", and he wishes that he could growl her name in response because hearing her call his out like that is nearly his undoing, but his mouth is otherwise occupied. So instead he bites her, using what little sense he has left to remind himself not to draw blood, and her whole body seems to go into shock. Her arms hold him to her so hard that he's very glad he can't suffocate, and she buries her face in his neck, and the feeling of her muscles clenching around him sends him over the edge.

When he comes back to his senses, she's rubbing soothing circles against his back though her own limbs are still trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm. He finds his lips are now right next to her shoulder, so he peppers soft kisses there until she giggles and cups his face in her hands and gives him a quick kiss before pulling away. Their eyes lock, the air around them suddenly heavy with things unsaid. He swallows hard as he waits for her to say something. He knows that she's committed to giving them a chance, he doesn't doubt her word for a second, but the way she's looking at him as if she's trying to solve one of the great mysteries of the universe is making him nervous. Yes, nervous. He almost growls at the thought, but suddenly she's smiling at him and he can't remember what he was just thinking about.

"Well... Mission accomplished," she states.

He chuckles and lies down, bringing her down with him.

"Good," he replies as she cuddles against him, one hand resting on his chest while his arm stays wrapped around her back.

Her eyes start to flutter shut and he presses a soft kiss to her temple, knowing that if she's even half as exhausted as he is, she's going to fall asleep any second.

When has she ever done anything he's expected of her?

"So… You love me."

He groans, hardly believing that this is what she wants to talk about when really, what she should be worrying about is her friends' reaction when she approaches them with the news of their relationship and the deal she came up with.

"I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?"

He glowers at her for doubting it, but since her eyes are still closed and she's yawning, clearly unthreatened by anything he could do or say, it's not very effective. He's left with nothing to do but sigh and give her an answer.

"Yes."

"Good. That's good," she mutters sleepily.

"Is it?" he asks sceptically.

There's only silence for a few seconds and he thinks she's finally succumbed to sleep, but then she snuggles closer to him and whispers in his ear.

"Yeah. Makes falling for you less scary."

He raises an eyebrow. That's an admission he wasn't expecting so early.

"Oh. Well in that case. Yes, it's good."

"Good night, Klaus."

"It's early afternoon, Caroline."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"Yes, love."

* * *

**Fin**

**Damn, I hate writing smut almost as much as I love reading it. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. Hope that was okay. And that the ending wasn't too much. Pleeeeease review :)**

**Also, I swore to myself I would NOT start another Klaroline fic until I've finished my GoT one, but a new idea's been bugging me since Thursday. I'm going to try to ignore it because I really don't have time for this, but given that I have absolutely no self control, keep an eye out for a new story – you never know ;)**


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